


(Don't) Come Back for Me

by midnightsurge



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Finn is captured by the First Order and forgets everything, Finn is sad and confused, Happy Ending, M/M, Poe avoids Finn a lot, Poe is a wreck, Re-indoctrination, Suicidal Thoughts, amnesia!fic, indoctrination, the Resistance finds him again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 16:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6122029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightsurge/pseuds/midnightsurge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That’s me,” he repeats out loud, his voice breathless. He forces his eyes away from the picture to stare incredulously at the real Poe, the Poe who can’t even stand to look him straight on, who always has to be looking away from him just like he’s doing right now. “That’s me,” Finn repeats with more conviction.</p><p>	Poe swallows, a shaky hand coming up to push his hair back. He’s still sitting up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist while Finn stands right there, right within reach. “Yeah,” he finally admits quietly. “That’s you.”</p><p>“How.”</p><p>Or</p><p>Finn escapes the First Order a second time, though his memories have been taken away from him. He finds himself amidst the Resistance once more, but there's something no one's telling him, and it has to do with Commander Poe Dameron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Don't) Come Back for Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [this post](http://rafikecoyote.tumblr.com/post/138214895278/finn-x-poe-some-kind-of-au-2), made by the lovely [rafikecoyote](http://rafikecoyote.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr! Thank you for letting me write this sad mess based on your post! 
> 
> This was also written when I should've been studying for my mid-terms, so if any of it seems off I apologise!

            FN-2187 dreams sometimes, late at night.

            He dreams of colours, of blurred faces. He dreams of soft, brown eyes and a blinding smile. He dreams of sweet pink lips and strong arms that hold him tightly. He sees some of the details with startling clarity, but the face he dreams of is forever blurry.

            He keeps those dreams to himself, though; amongst the First Order, it’s always better not to share.

***

            He is kept on base in the sanitation department, away from the guns and the blasters, away from the TIE-fighters and the computers. FN-2187 is told, when he wakes up in his bunk with nothing to his memory, that he’s gone through a routine round of indoctrination. If he’s forgotten a few things, that’s normal.

            FN-2187 has forgotten everything though; or at least, he probably has. He has no memories from before. Captain Phasma is apparently satisfied with that.

            He tells no one that having his memories stripped away scares him. He hates not remembering, even if he doesn’t know what it is he’s forgotten.

            FN-2187 doesn’t think he believes in the First Order and what they stand for. He’s never told anyone of course, but sometimes, when Captain Phasma looks at him long and hard through that chrome helmet of hers, he thinks she probably knows already.

***

            When FN-2187 opens his eyes, he finds himself staring at a bleak, gray ceiling, the mattress beneath him softer than anything he’s ever laid on. This wasn’t a First Order starship.

            “Finn? Can you hear me?” a voice asks from beyond his field of vision.

            FN-2187 carefully turns his head to the side, his eyes glazing over with confusion as he catches sight of someone he’s certain he’s never seen before. Her aged face is tired, littered with lines from the crossing of the years and time. FN-2187 has no idea who she is, though she seems convinced she knows him.

            “Finn?” she asks again, a worried lilt to her voice. “Are you all right? Can you hear me?”

            Finn? He frowns. The name isn’t familiar to him.

            His expression must tell the woman something because she suddenly clears her throat and looks away. “I think it would be best if we were left alone for now.” She directs the words over FN-2187’s body, making him aware that they’re not the only occupants in the room.

            He turns – slowly once more – and, to his surprise, sees a small group of people there, each one more anxious than the next as they observe him worriedly. FN-2187 has no idea what to think of it, though he finds his gaze inexplicably drawn to two specific people. At the very forefront of the ragtag group is a young woman with a slightly older man at her side. She has young features that seem to have been hardened by experience, although at this moment, with her wide eyes fixated on him, FN-2187 can’t help but think she’s holding herself together by sheer will alone.

            The man appears very much the same. His clenched jaw is dusted with facial hair, something the First Order would have never allowed among their troops, and his stance is defensive, his shoulders drawn tight and his feet slightly apart. His eyes look like they could have been kind, once. He keeps them fixated on FN-2187.

            “Finn?” the woman from before calls again, this time with further hesitation.

            FN-2187 keeps his gaze fixated on the pair at the front of the small group. Something is telling him that there’s more to them than what could be seen.

            A hand on his arm draws his attention away from them momentarily. He turns back to look at the first woman, her expression growing more worried by the second.

            “Do you remember your name?” she asks him.

            He stares at her. “FN-2187.”

            A commotion breaks out near the door and when he looks over, FN-2187 is only further confused. Murmurs have broken out amongst the rest of the small group, but the two at the forefront say nothing.

            FN-2187 only manages to catch a glimpse of the man’s face before he turns on his heel and walks away, forcing his way through the group and past the door. FN-2187 has no idea what to make of the near desperate expression that shrouds the man as he leaves.

            “Everyone clear the room please,” the woman repeats, but with more conviction.

            It takes a while for the others to listen to her. The young woman in particular is hard to convince, her movements stiff as she’s forced out, her gaze always coming back to FN-2187.

FN-2187 stares back with detachment.

***

            FN-2187 comes to the conclusion that his name must have been Finn, before. Or, more precisely, he is FN-2187, then he is Finn, and then he is FN-2187 once more.

            “Finn,” he tests the name out late at night when the woman – a doctor name T’ula, as he found out a little earlier – has finished examining him and has left him alone to rest. He has a room to himself, the quiet something he’s unused to after what he assumes is a lifetime of sharing barracks with several other troopers. The medi-droid comes to check his vitals every once in a while, but other than that, he is very much alone.

            “Finn,” he repeats again, a little louder. He feels it linger on his tongue, the sound so close to his designation that he can’t help but wonder who started calling him Finn in the first place. He sits up in his bed and pushes himself over, lets his legs dangle over the edge while digging his fingers into the corner of the mattress. He feels restless, his limbs refusing to settle, his mind set against letting him sleep. His surroundings are unfamiliar and for the life of him, he just can’t stop picturing the expression on the man’s face when he left.

            FN-2187 – no Finn, his name is Finn now – closes his eyes and tries to bring up the memory a little more clearly. He breathes in deep and thinks first of brown eyes; doe eyes that once smiled to the world. He thinks of the man’s twisted lips, pink and chapped; Finn is certain they used to be soft. Finally, he pictures the frown marring the man’s face, the despair lining his still young features.

            Finn wonders what he’s done to hurt the man so badly.

            He opens his eyes and stares at the wall opposite him. Cold sweat prickles at the back of his neck. He knows what the First Order does. Knows what they’re like. He no longer has his memories, but what if…

            What if.

            Oh. _What if_.

            Finn’s stomach churns darkly. He doesn’t want his memories anymore. Not if they’re of this – not if they’re of him hurting people, or killing them, or – or –

            He stands abruptly. He needs to be anywhere else, anywhere that wasn’t here.

***

            Finn walks as far as his tired legs will take him. He finds that it’s not very far at all. It isn’t long before he lets himself collapse, his breathing erratic and painful. His lungs feel like they’re slowly catching fire, the oxygen wasting away faster and faster until he barely has any left. He reclines against the closest tree, lets his back rest against the rough trunk, all the while mindful of the scar running along his spine. It hasn’t hurt him in a long time – he doesn’t really remember it ever hurting – but he feels the healed skin tug awkwardly sometimes.

He’s found a handful of hours later, sitting on the ground in the middle of the forest, his once clean scrubs now covered in leaves and dirt. He looks up when he hears branches breaking to his left and his breath catches in his throat when he see _him_ , the man from earlier.

“Finn –” the man stops suddenly, seemingly berating himself for something unseen. He looks frazzled, his eyes wide.

Finn notices that the bottom of the man’s sleeping pants are dirty, and his thin shirt is covered in perspiration, and –

Could the man have been looking for him all this time?

“FN-2 – shit,” the man starts and stops again, swallows harshly and looks away.

“Finn,” FN-2187 – _no_ , it’s _Finn_ – Finn says after a moment.

The man startles, his eyes snapping up.

“Finn,” he repeats again, quieter this time. “I… I like being Finn more than I like being FN-2187.” Finn wonders if he should even be saying something of the sort to someone he’s most likely brought pain to in the past.

The man stares down at him and swallows once more. He nods slowly and looks to the side, his jaw clenching. “Finn,” the man says slowly, almost painfully. “They’re looking for you in medbay.”

            Finn brings his legs up to his chest and curls his shoulders in, hides his face in his knees. He doesn’t want to go.

            “Finn?” he hears again. Leaves and twigs break under the man’s footing as he cautiously moves forward. “Is it your back? Is it hurting you?”

            Finn says nothing.

            “Shit,” the man curses.

            Finn hears twigs breaking once more as the man turns and walks away, leaving Finn alone. The lost Stormtrooper clenches his eyes shut and tries not to cry.

It isn’t long before someone else finds him again.

***

            He’s sitting on his bed in the medbay once more. This time he has bandages covering the scratches on the soles of his feet; the forest floor had not been kind to him.

            On the chair across from him, there sits a woman; she has a grace about her, her gray hair not deterring from her commanding presence nor her beauty. Finn feels slightly intimidated by her and chooses to stay silent until she speaks first.

            “Hello, Finn,” she greets him after a moment. “Do you remember me?”

            He looks at her carefully, tries to trudge up whatever memories he could, tries to remember… _something_. But there’s nothing there.

            She seems to know that already. The woman sits back in her seat, exhaustion peeking through her otherwise strong front. “My name is General Leia Organa.”

            Finn’s heart freezes in his chest and tries to crawl up his throat. The Resistance. He’s behind enemy lines. He licks his lips and asks carefully. “Am I a prisoner?”

            General Organa stares him down. “You are not and will never be a prisoner of the Resistance, Finn. Is that understood?”

            He wants to believe her, he truly does. But, having spent what he remembers of his life under commands of the First Order, Finn hardly thinks any place in the world could be safe from their influence. Under them, he had been taught to hate everything the Resistance stood for; he could hardly believe Resistance fighters weren’t trained the same way. “I’m one of them,” he reminds her quietly. He looks at his hands and wonders what they’ve done in the past.

            “What’s the last thing you remember?” the General asks him instead. “Before waking up here, what’s the last thing you remember?”

            Finn frowns. “I remember… running. My captain she – she wanted me to kill someone. I refused.” He remembers the scared Stormtrooper lying at his feet, Captain Phasma standing at the ready behind him. The trooper kept falling behind in simulations and would therefore have to be terminated. It had been a test, killing the trooper. Finn had failed.

            The General stares at him. “How did you escape?”

            “I stole a TIE-fighter and crashed it on the first planet I could find,” Finn admits. He’d been helpless to do anything else; it had been either that or face another round of indoctrination. He never wants to forget anything ever again.

            “You were trained as a pilot?” she asks him with surprise.

            Finn shakes his head. He doesn’t even know how he knew to get it functioning. He had just let his hands take over. Evidently, his hands didn’t know how to land.

            “It wasn’t the first time you ran from the First Order,” she tells him.

            Finn’s eyes snap up, wide with surprise. He’s greeted with her gentle smile.

            “You’ve been with us before, Finn. You were… captured, almost a year ago,” the General admits gravelly, carefully. “You escaped them before. And you escaped them again.”

***

            Finn is introduced to a few key members of the Resistance but, for the most part, he’s kept under observation in the medical wing. Resistance fighters had found him lying not too far from the crashed TIE-fighter, unconscious and injured, but still alive. They’d brought him back to base and he’s been in the medical wing since, his thankfully superficial injuries being looked over carefully.

            His most frequent visitor is that young woman he’d noticed when he’d first woken up. She sits by him and brings him food that’s slightly more edible than what the medi-droids force on him.

            “My name is Rey,” she tells him the day after his impromptu walk in the forest, a strained smile on her young face. “They say you don’t remember.”

            He shakes his head. “My name is Finn.” The name is still a little hesitant in his mouth; in the back of his mind, he can’t help but picture the man’s face in the forest when Finn told him the same thing.

            Her smile turns shaky, her eyes watering. “I missed you.”

            He wishes he could say the same.

            Rey visits him every day, but Finn doesn’t see the man again for a long while. He asks about him one day.

            “Hey Rey,” Finn looks up from the half-filled plate in his lap.

            Rey tears her gaze away from the datapad in her hands.

            “Who was that man?” Finn is ready to elaborate, but the expression on Rey’s face tells him he doesn’t have to.

            She seems to have frozen in her seat, her mouth gaping slightly. He’s caught her unawares with his question, but he doesn’t think it’s for any reason he can possibly imagine.

            “Um,” she hesitates, her eyes darting around slightly. “You mean, Poe?”

            The name tugs at something, the way Rey’s had the first time he’d heard it. “Poe…”

            “He found you in the forest,” Rey looks at him carefully. “Do you remember him?”

            Poe. _Poe_. Finn shakes his head, frustration burning under his skin. _Poe_.

            “It’s okay,” she smiles at him with reassurance, moving forward to hold his hand. “Finn. It’s okay.”

***

            He’s released from the medical bay a few days later. He’s deemed fit for civilian life, but not for training or combat.

            “Was I a soldier?” Finn asks Rey as he grabs his temporarily issued clothes from the medi-droid, following her closely when she makes her way out the door and through the halls.

            Rey glances at him. “Of sorts,” she admits. “I don’t know how much I can tell you,” she frowns apologetically, clearly frustrated with the lack of information she’s allowed to share. “They’re not certain if your memories are just… repressed, or completely removed. Your doctor thinks that it might be better to wait and see if anything changes.”

            “Does that mean you can’t tell me anything?” he holds his things closer to his chest.

            She clenches her jaw and breathes heavily. She stops in the hallway and turns to face him, places her hands on his arms and squeezes. “Not yet. But I will. I’ll keep pushing until they let me, okay? I’ll give this whole ‘waiting’ thing a shot, but if nothing changes – if enough time passes and you still want to know, I’ll tell you everything. Okay?”

            Rey has a certain aura about her. Finn doesn’t know what it is, but it reaches out to him, soothes his worries and reassures him.

            For the next few days, Finn catches glimpses of Poe around the base. They’re only fleeting glances; he never gets to talk to the man and, since their run-in in the forest, Poe hasn’t sought him out. Finn assumes – and even though the thought is heavy in his chest, he has no reason to think otherwise – that whoever Finn had been before he was captured, he must have done something to hurt the other man greatly.

            Finn never asks though.

            He’s on his way to see General Organa after his latest check-up when he overhears something that only solidifies his previous thoughts.

            There are only four places on the Resistance base that Finn is familiar enough with to navigate properly. The medical wing, where he reports to daily. The mess hall, where he eats with Rey while avoiding the increasing stares from everyone around them. His temporary room, which happens to be a few halls away from the medical wing. And finally, General Organa’s quarters, where he reports to nightly for reasons that he has yet to really understand.

            Finn is standing outside the door, his hand poised to knock when he registers voices through the door. He’s about to step back, mindful of invading anyone’s privacy when he finally recognises one of the voices.

            _Poe_.

            “You can’t keep me grounded forever!” he hears. The words are tainted with a desperate edge. “It’s been _six months_. You need me up in the air, even you can’t deny that!”

            “It’s not about what the Resistance needs, Poe,” comes General Organa’s reply. “This is for your own safety –”

            “Oh, bullshit!” he cuts her off and Finn nearly jumps in surprise at the harshness filling Poe’s voice.

            “That is enough, Commander Dameron!” the General’s response resonates.

            Finn only has enough time to take a step back before the door is being opened and a figure comes barreling out, nearly colliding with him head first. Poe stops just in time, his eyes widening when he catches sight of him standing there.

            “Finn –” Poe starts, his hands reaching out with what seems to be instinct before the man forcefully stops himself. His fingers curl into tight fists from where they hang in midair and Finn can’t help but wonder what it is he wants to reach out for so badly.

            Poe looks as though the universe has run him dry and ragged. His dark hair is flying all over the place, and the bags under his eyes are so heavy, they have Finn wondering when the man has last gotten any sleep. Even through that thought however, Finn could still see traces of where laughter lines used to reign, could see lips that would have smiled easily once.

            Finn finds himself nearly falling back from an onslaught of images, each one unrelated to the next, but all having to do with Poe.

            Poe in an orange flight suit, a helmet hanging loosely from his hand.

            Poe climbing out of an X-Wing, his eyes lit up with joy.

            Poe running around with an orange BB unit, the thing chirping raucously as it rolls around.

            Finn hardly notices that he’s close to toppling over until frantic hands are steadying him, fingers clutching onto his arms and holding him upright.

            “Finn? Finn?!”

            Finn blinks repeatedly, Poe’s hazy features coming back into focus, General Organa standing not too far behind.

            “Finn?” Poe repeats again, his eyes frantic as he looks him over.

            “Sorry –” he gasps out, reminding himself to breathe. “Sorry – I don’t –” he swallows, locks gazes with General Organa standing behind Poe, a worried look on her face. “I’m fine,” he forces out, his mouth widening into a shaky smile. “I should –” Finn points to somewhere vague behind himself before stepping back and out of Poe’s semi-embrace. He turns and starts running before he can let himself miss the warmth of Poe’s hands on his arms.

***

            Time passes and Finn hears bits and pieces of Poe’s story circulating amongst the Resistance fighters.

            It starts with a woman named Jess.

            Finn meets her when Rey returns from one of her late training sessions with a woman at her side. He thinks he possibly recognises her as one of the people who’d been by his bedside when he’d first woken up, but he can’t be certain. She starts joining them on what Rey has decided to be their nightly walks through the forest and to the shore, a route she pushed for when she noticed Finn’s eyes continuously straying to the treeline whenever it was in sight.

            “So you really don’t remember anything?” Jess asks him when they’re sitting, leaning against a tree while watching Rey as she dips her feet into the water.

            Finn shakes his head. He still hadn’t told anyone about the weird images he’s been plagued with since the other night.

            “Not even Poe?” she asks after another moment.

            He turns to look at her, a million questions on the tip of his tongue but he holds himself back. “Should I remember him?” he says, when what he really means is _Why him? What have I done to him? He can’t even look at me, how much have I really hurt him? Sometimes I think I dream about him; sometimes I think the dreams I’ve had since before have been of nothing but him._

            “You know, he’s a pilot. A damn great one, at that,” Jess says instead. “Or, at least, he was. He hasn’t been in allowed to fly for over half a year.”

            Finn frowns at her and is reminded of the conversation he’d overheard. “Why?”

            She looks at him before glancing at where Rey is walking back towards them. “You should ask him,” is all she answers before standing up and meeting Rey halfway.

            The next person he hears more stories from is a pilot named Snap.

            On a day where Finn feels like he’s close to reaching his breaking point out of sheer lack of nothing to do other than answer questions about what he remembers, he decides to follow Rey when she goes to visit Jess in the pilots’ hangar.

            He realises his mistake when he walks past the doors and finds Poe standing near a grounded X-Wing, tools and parts littering the ground around him, a white and orange droid at his side. The man looks up and freezes at the sight of Finn, his muscles bunched up and tense. A hush descends upon the rest of the pilots, their eyes darting between Finn and Poe as though expecting something to happen. And something does.

            The BB unit comes rolling forward, chirping loudly and excitedly as it rolls around Finn, coming to a stop in front of him and butting at his legs when he does nothing. The BB unit looks vaguely familiar but Finn can’t place where he’s seen it before.

            Finn stares down at the droid quizzically, his confusion only growing when it chirps at him again. “Um. Hello?” he tries. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand binary,” he apologises as the droid continues trying to communicate with him. The sound of a tool dropping has Finn looking up and finding Poe’s jaw clenched once more, the man’s eyes averted.

            “Come on, BB-8,” Poe calls out to the droid as he heads towards the exit, his gaze trained to the floor the entire time.

            BB-8 looks up at Finn one more time before it hastily rolls after its master, beeping at Poe the entire time but eliciting no reaction from him.

            Finn tears his eyes away from the retreating figure, a lump in his throat for reasons he can’t begin to fathom. He finds Rey and Jess on the other side of the hangar, their faces ranging between angry and sympathetic. He makes his way there on shaky legs, too far away to make out whatever it is Rey is hastily whispering to Jess.

            “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make him leave,” Finn speaks quietly once he reaches their side. “I’ll go; you guys can tell him it’s okay to come back.”

            Rey is about to answer him when another man walks over to them, startling Finn by placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about that, Finn. It’s good to see you up and about. My name is Snap,” he greets with a smile.

            Finn nods at him but still feels uncomfortable about the entire situation.

            “Come on; wanna learn how to fix an X-Wing?” Snap points at the one next to Jess’.

            For the next hour or so, Finn is fiddling with engine parts and learning their different names and features. He stays quiet as Snap shows him each part, nodding his understanding and doing as instructed even though his eyes keep straying to Poe’s abandoned post.

            Snap catches him looking one too many times. “Don’t worry about it,” he reiterates understandingly.

            “I don’t want to take away from his time,” Finn focuses on the tool in his hands. “He should be able to fix his X-Wing in peace.”

            “He was just doing routine maintenance,” Snap reassures him. “He’s not allowed to fly that thing out of here, not since his last near-suicide mission –” he cuts himself off mid-sentence, his eyes widening. “Shit. I didn’t say that.”

            Finn frowns worriedly. Isn’t the Resistance meant to care more for their soldiers than the First Order? How could they stand to send their people through with suicide missions? Some of his thoughts must have come across more evidently on his face because Snap hurries to try and fix his words.

            “No, no! That’s not something normal within the Resistance! General Organa would never condone those sorts of missions; that was all Poe acting on his own – shit,” he cuts himself off again with a wince, his gaze tracking over to where Rey and Jess were working on Jess’ X-Wing, his expression apologetic. “Um. Sorry?”

            “Come on, Finn,” Rey says as she walks up to him with an exasperated yet slightly worried look about her. “It’s time for supper; let’s go to the mess hall?”

            “He’s different,” she says after a moment, their footsteps echoing in the halls. “He was different, before,” she clarifies a little at his confused glance. “He used to smile, used to be easy to talk to. I can’t even get to him anymore.”

            Finn clears his throat, slows his steps as they get closer to the mess hall. “Will anyone ever tell me what happened?” Finn isn’t stupid. He didn’t escape the First Order by being unobservant. He knows whatever it is that’s happened to Commander Poe Dameron, Finn is responsible for it. He sees it in everyone’s lingering glances, sees it in Poe’s avoidance.

            Rey looks at him, opens her mouth halfway to say something, but changes her mind. She exhales heavily and shakes her head before turning and walking into the mess hall.

            Finn stares after her, his heart heavy. He shouldn’t be here.

            That night, he’s plagued with more dreams. Nightmares. Different than those he used to get aboard the Star Destroyer. Those ones were filled with hope, with soft smiles and even softer touches.

            These ones. These ones are nothing like that.

            They tug at him, drag him deeper under veils of despair and confusion until he wakes gasping for breath, his heart racing unsettlingly in his chest as he tries to make out his surroundings. The walls of his private quarters are closing in on him and he just _can’t be there_.

            He runs out of his room and through the maze of hallways, avoiding every sentry on duty and making it to the hangar under the cover of night. He’ll find a transport, he’ll get off this planet and leave its occupants behind, leave _Poe_ behind and –

            And –

            And that thought stops him in his tracks once he makes it to the hangar, his breathing laboured and his stomach churning unpleasantly. _Poe_. Finn doesn’t want to leave him behind. He doesn’t – _he doesn’t_ –

            His vision is blurry and when he brings his hand up to his face, his fingers come back wet with tears. He doesn’t understand what’s happening to him, doesn’t understand why it hurts so much to think of leaving Poe when he _knows_ , Finn _knows_ that it’s the best thing for him to do –

            A noise startles him, forces him to look to the side where he sees Poe standing beside his X-Wing with a toolbox at his feet, a mirror-image of earlier that day. The pilot is staring right at him with his piercing gaze and Finn feels terribly self-conscious all of a sudden.

            He wipes at his face and looks away, unsure of where to settle his eyes in the wake of the unexpected presence.

            “There isn’t anyone else here,” Poe says, his voice tense. He’s turned back to his X-Wing, his shoulders rigid as he removes a piece of paneling.

            Finn says nothing, his eyes still taking in the rows of X-Wings, A-Wings, and every other aircraft as he stands there shaking. He looks down at his feet and realises he’s cold because he’s barefoot; the cement is turning his feet numb.

            “Go back to sleep, Finn,” Poe sighs wearily, bending to put his tools down. He grabs at a dirty rag and wipes his greasy hands on it. “If you still want to leave in the morning, the General will help you find a shuttle out.”

            He doesn’t know why, but those words make Finn snap. He turns around and finds Poe observing him already, his expression tired and weary but there’s a hint of something else there. Something Finn doesn’t understand. The low light in the hangar throws most of his face under the shadow, and it’s only by chance Finn notices that Poe never really looks directly at him; it’s always slightly to the side, never truly focused on his face.

            Words are suddenly tumbling past Finn’s mouth and he has no idea where they’re coming from. “Why did they pull you off the field, huh? What did you do?” _What is he doing, what is he saying?!_ “Turn down an assignment? Start thinking differently from the rest of the Resistance?” _Stop, stop, STOP, you don’t know what you’re saying_ – “Fall in love?”

            Poe’s eyes snap up at that and Finn is under his intense gaze, the pilot’s full focus settling on him for the first time; there’s no looking away this time, there’s no pretending to look at him while really gazing somewhere to the side instead. Poe’s dark eyes are digging into him, and though the rest of his face doesn’t change, Finn knows he’s just said something, something that –

            Oh.

            _Oh._

            Finn feels bile rise up in his throat, forces himself not to start dry-heaving right then and there. His heart is racing and his palms are clammy and he feels _so sick_.

That’s what he did then, isn’t it? He killed the person Poe loves, whoever it was. Finn must have been responsible for it, either before or after or whenever and for fuck’s sake he can’t even remember when it could’ve possibly happened because _he can’t remember anything_ –

Finn’s turns on his heels and leaves, his bare feet echoing loudly in the otherwise silent space.

***

Finn sits uncomfortably in the mess hall, Snap sitting across from him at the table, a bewildered expression on his face.

Finn’s chest has felt caved in since he’d last seen Poe a few hours ago. His feet are covered in blisters but he doesn’t care. He sits there defiantly, his hands wringing in his lap as he waits for Snap’s decision.

            “Have you spoken to anyone about this?” Snap finally says, confusion still tainting his voice.

            Finn nods carefully. “I’ve spoken to the General, yes.” He hasn’t told Rey or Jess yet.

            “And she’s alright with it?” Snap asks incredulously.

            “She said it wasn’t her decision to make, and if I felt this was the path I had to choose, she wouldn’t be the one to stop me,” Finn quoted from memory, his recent conversation with the General still stuck in his head.

            Snap gaped at him. “What about Rey? And Jess? And – shit, have you spoken to Poe about this?”

            He flinches at the mention of Poe, the man’s piercing gaze forever embedded in his memory. “I’ll speak to Rey and Jess,” he answers around the lump in his throat.

            “And Poe?” Snap pushes.

            Finn looks away, his chest caving in further and further. “He’s the one who suggested I talk to the General to arrange a transport out.”

            Snap’s hand smacks against the table, the noise echoing loudly through the half-filled mess hall. “No, man, this is bullshit!” the pilot spews out.

            Finn stares at him with wide eyes, Snap’s reaction a complete surprise. “Snap…” he starts carefully, “it isn’t a secret that Poe… that Poe can’t –” he exhales shakily, unable to find the proper words. “It’s just better, okay? It’s better for all of us if I’m not here. I just need a transport to get to the Outer Rim and then I can find my way from there, alright?”

            “A week,” Snap stares him down. “Give me a week to try and fix this, and then… then, if you still want to leave, I’ll help you, okay? I’ll personally fly you to any Outer Rim planet you want, but just – give me a week.”

            Finn stares at him in bewilderment, but nods anyway. A week will give him time to talk to Rey and Jess, maybe acquire a few things he doesn’t have yet. A week.

            He can keep away from Poe for another week.

***

            The dreams are worse than they’ve ever been.

Finn doesn’t sleep for two nights, the dreams always waiting for him at the edge of his unconscious mind. Hints of brown eyes and smiling, pink lips have Finn gasping for breath before he’s fully asleep, his heart pounding between his ribs, his lungs struggling to expand with oxygen.

            On the third night after his conversation with Snap, Finn finds himself shaking awake, Poe’s smiling face seared to the back of his eyelids. He doesn’t know where such an image could have come from; he’s never seen the pilot smile.

            Finn pushes the thin blankets off his sweating form, the need to be anywhere else in that moment urging him to get out of his room. He lets his feet guide him through the halls and suddenly finds himself in front of a door he’s never been to before, in a part of the base he’s never tried to explore.

            He stares at the closed door, something urgent tugging at him and, without knowing why, he brings his hand up to the biometric keypad near the door and presses his thumb against it. To his surprise, the light turns green and lets him in.

            Finn pushes the door open wearily, his heart still racing with residual adrenaline from the dreams. He goes in to find a room bigger than his own, with possessions scattered all over the place. He looks around in confusion, wondering why his fingerprint would open this random door when his eyes fall on the figure groggily sitting up in bed.

            Finn’s stomach drops when he recognises Poe, the man’s hair tousled with sleep and his chest bare as the blankets slide off him.

            “Finn?” the man asks him with a soft voice Finn has never heard him use before. “Why are you up, buddy? Did you have another bad dream?” Poe is still squinting, his mind clearly not fully awake yet.

            Finn stares at him with wide eyes. “How do you know about those?” He hasn’t told anyone on base about his nightmares.

            Something washes over Poe and whatever traces of softness there is in him suddenly disappears, his body turning rigid and tense. “How did you get here?” Poe asks tersely.

            Finn watches as Poe starts looking around the room with something close to terror in his eyes. Finn is about to apologise profusely, about to run out of there with a promise that Poe will never have to see him again, Finn’s made sure of that – when Finn catches sight of a picture on Poe’s bedside table that –

            That.

            “That’s me,” he whispers breathlessly, his eyes wide. He walks over to the frame, his body in a trance of some sort as he picks up the picture without any knowledge of doing so, his hands shaking as he brings it up closer to inspect it properly.

            That’s _him_. That’s _Finn_ , sitting somewhere surrounded by trees and that’s – that’s Poe sitting next to him with an arm wrapped around Finn’s shoulders. They’re both laughing like idiots, Finn with his eyes squinting under the bright sunlight, Poe staring at him with something Finn has yet to understand and –

            “That’s me,” he repeats out loud, his voice breathless. He forces his eyes away from the picture to stare incredulously at the real Poe, the Poe who can’t even stand to look him straight on, who always has to be looking away from him _just like he’s doing right now_. “That’s _me_ ,” Finn repeats with more conviction.

            Poe swallows, a shaky hand coming up to push his hair back. He’s still sitting up in bed, the sheets pooling around his waist while Finn stands right there, right within reach. “Yeah,” he finally admits quietly. “That’s you.”

            “ _How_.”

            “This isn’t the first time you run away from the First Order,” Poe speaks after a moment when Finn shows him he isn’t going anywhere without an answer. “The last time…” a heavy breath, “the last time, I was being held prisoner on the Star Destroyer, and right when I thought I’d finally reached the end, a stormtrooper pulls me out of there, tells me he needs a pilot.”

            Finn is trembling.

            “You’ve been with the Resistance ever since. Until –” Poe laughs shakily, his fingers twisting in the sheets. He’s still not looking at Finn. “Until a little over a year ago, when the First Order captured you.”

            Finn tries to breathe, tries not to hyperventilate. “They made me forget everything.”

            Poe swallows, nods. “Re-indoctrination. We thought they’d killed you,” he laughs. It’s a terrible laugh, a broken one. “I tried – I tried to find you, tried to bring you back…”

            Things are beginning to slot into place. “Snap said you flew suicide missions.”

            Poe’s fists clenched. “I wasn’t coming back without you.”

            “You’ve been grounded for six months,” Finn remembers.

            “The General thought I was getting too reckless; said I couldn’t keep going if all I was going to bring back was my own dead body.”

            Finn feels his knees buckle under him and soon enough he’s on the floor, dizzy with information, with pictures, and images, and dreams, and – he can’t breathe.

            “Finn?” Poe is suddenly in front of him, holding him up by the shoulders. “Finn?!” Poe’s voice has taken on a worried edge Finn has never heard from him. “Finn, please –”

            “I dreamt of you,” Finn admits shakily, his eyes glazed over, unable to focus on anything in a room that just keeps spinning around him. “I dreamt of you almost every night,” he says as he comes to the realisation that the features plaguing his nights have always belonged to Poe.

            “ _Finn_ –” Poe sobs, tears escaping his familiar doe, brown eyes.

            Those eyes are the last things Finn sees before darkness surrounds him.

            The next time he comes to, he’s back in medbay, the familiar grey ceiling greeting him as he wakes up. In the background, he can hear the hush of the medical wing at night, the continuous beeping of monitors keeping track of vital signs. There’s no doctor to meet him this late at night, but Finn feels a presence at his side nevertheless.

            He slowly turns to look and finds Poe there, curled up in the visitor’s chair pushed as close as it could be to Finn’s bed. Poe isn’t sleeping, not yet at least given by the fact that his head snaps up when he hears the sheets rustling.

            They don’t say anything at first, each of them busy observing the other. Finn takes in the permanent bags under Poe’s soft eyes, takes in his unruly hair; Poe is still wearing the same sleep pants he’d had on earlier, though he’s covered his chest with a thin t-shirt.

            Poe clears his throat. “I’ve sat next to you like this before. Not just… not just when you woke up here a few weeks ago, but that first time too.”

            Finn feels the skin on his back raising a little. “My back?” he asks, the scar prickling in phantom pain he doesn’t remember ever feeling in the first place.

            Poe nods slowly. “You got it saving Rey. Saving all of us actually,” he smiles a watery smile. “You fought against Kylo Ren.”

            Finn has a hard time believing it. His only memories aboard the Star Destroyer have to do with training and Captain Phasma. He’s never seen anyone higher up than her, though he’d heard many stories of Kylo Ren.

            “You hate me,” Finn says finally, putting everything else behind him. He knows it’s true, no matter what sort of relationship they had before; Finn was scared he’d killed someone Poe loved and, in a way, he had.

            “No,” Poe says vehemently, straightening up in his chair. His gaze is frightened. “ _No_.”

            Finn nods. “You do.” And Finn _understands_. “I’m not _him_ , I’m not the same Finn you knew before. I’m just – just someone with the same face, the same name, but not –” he swallows around the lump in his throat. “That Finn doesn’t exist anymore.”

            Poe shakes his head, tears dotting the corner of his eyes. “That’s _not true_. You left. You left them _again_ , Finn, don’t you understand? No matter what memories they took from you, you still left them. The First Order was never able to control you.”

            “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” It baffles Finn, makes him insecure; if the Resistance knew him, knew he’d escaped before, why did they never tell him about it? “Why didn’t _you_?”

            Finn watches wearily as Poe inhales and exhales shakily, the pilot closing his eyes momentarily to gather himself together before answering. “I promised you,” Poe finally speaks. “Before all of this, I promised you I’d never let them take you away, never let them get a hold of you. I promised you I’d never let you forget.”

            “You let me forget when you chose not to tell me.”

            Poe freezes at the words, his eyes snapping open. He gapes at Finn, unable to come up with an answer.

            Finns turns away from him; he curls up in his cot and clenches his eyes shut, hoping against hope that maybe things will be different when he wakes up.

***

            A week has passed since his conversation with Snap, but Finn makes no move to leave the Resistance base. He has questions he wants answered, things he absolutely needs to know, but he needs time before he can get to them.

            He spends those few days avoiding everyone, even Rey and Jess. He’d never gotten around to telling them that he’d been planning on leaving, but Finn could hold that off for a little longer until he comes to a definite decision.

            He spends most of his days in his room, only eating when food suddenly materialises outside his door, though he suspects Poe might have a hand in that.

            General Organa doesn’t come looking for him. Something tells him she’s already aware of what it is he wants.

            One day, near dusk, he lets his feet take him to the forest, lets his body guide him past the treeline and down a specific path. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows where it leads to. Soon enough, he reaches a side of the lake he doesn’t remember ever having been to, and finds Poe sitting by the shore.

            The pilot has a piece of flimsy paper in his hand, his fingers careful as he rolls it around tobacco. The image tugs at something in Finn, insists it’s familiar to him.

            “You smoke,” Finn says quietly.

            He must have made enough noise on the way there that Poe doesn’t startle at his voice. “From time to time,” he agrees. He brings the hand-rolled cigarette to his lips and lights it with a match. “You always used to sit next to me when I came out here,” he indicated the area around them. “I haven’t been able to set foot near the lake since –” he swallows harshly, a tense line between his brows. “Since the First Order got to you.”

            “You’ve avoided me this whole time,” Finn finally cuts to the chase. His fists are clenched at his side. “You told me to leave.” And that’s the part Finn keeps going back to, alone in his room as he tries to sort out his thoughts. “You told me to _leave_.”

            Poe exhales, a trail of smoke escaping his lips. He’s trying to look calm, but Finn can see his fingers shaking where they’re holding his cigarette. “I did,” he admits quietly, still not turning around to look at Finn. “I thought it would be best, if you left without remembering. If you were _safe_.”

            Finn scoffs darkly, swallows around his anger. “How would I have been _safe_?”

            “The Resistance is a target, Finn,” Poe finally looks over at him. His eyes are desperate in the growing darkness. Soon, the only sources of light left in the forest will be from D’Qar’s twin moons and the glowing embers of Poe’s cigarette. “They’ll keep finding you here. And I’ll keep failing; I couldn’t stop them last time. What’s to say things will be any different in the future?”

            “Is that why the others didn’t tell me anything either?” Finn could hardly believe Rey and Jess agreeing to such a thing.

            Poe shakes his head, still looks straight at him in a way that has Finn flushing for unknown reasons. “They wanted to see if – if you’d be able to break the indoctrination process on your own. Clearly, you’d already broken through bits of it,” he indicates to the fact that Finn is standing in from of him in that moment, “and you’d done it more than once. They just weren’t certain if you’d get any of your memories back.”

            Finn feels something clawing at him from the inside? “Is there a way?” he asks quietly, trying not to let his hope grow. “Is there a way for me to remember?”

            “We don’t know,” Poe answers him truthfully, the cigarette burning down to nothing between his fingers. He stands up and carefully approaches Finn, stops when he’s still a good distance away from him. “There’s a possibility you might never remember anything.”

            Finn inhales shakily. “Did you love me?” The picture from Poe’s room, the one of them embracing each other, he’s still trying to understand it.

            Poe swallows. “I still do.”

            “I’m not the same,” Finn reminds him, his heart breaking a little.

            “You’re the same where it counts,” he says as honestly as he can. “I fell in love with you when we were escaping from the Star Destroyer; I fell in love with you before you had a name.”

            Finn hesitates but steps closer, lets his legs carry him over again, trusting his body’s instinct to know what he wants. He stops when he’s a few inches away from the pilot, Poe’s eyes wide and confused, but still hopeful. “Did I love you?” he forces himself to ask, his voice shaky.

            Poe stares at him in wonder. “Yeah, buddy. You loved me, too.”

            Finn makes up his mind. He closes the distance between them and kisses Poe; it’s a soft press of lips against lips, only a moment of connection before he pulls back. “Was that okay?” he whispers.

            It takes a moment for Poe to gather himself together again. “Yeah,” he nods, a watery smile gracing his face. Suddenly, he looks like the dreams Finn has; soft eyes and an even softer smile. Those dreams saved him, all that time ago aboard the Star Destroyer. “Yeah, it was more than okay.”

            “I want to remember,” Finn admits later on that night when they’re curled up in Poe’s bed – _their_ bed. He buries his face in Poe’s t-shirt, tangles his fingers in the soft fabric. He’s never felt so safe. Nothing is fixed yet; they still have a long way to go, but Finn lets himself have this. He lets himself take comfort in being so close to the source of his hope.

            “We’ll figure it out,” Poe kisses the top of his brow, pulls him closer like he’s holding on to a lifeline. “We’ll find a way.”

            Finn lets himself be lulled to sleep by the steady heartbeat under his ear. For the first time since he can remember, his dreams are clear; Poe is there smiling back at him, like he’s always been.

**Author's Note:**

> Come join me [here](http://midnightsurge.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


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